


The Best Way To Catch Dwarflings Is With Sticky Buns

by CrimsonRosella



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha!Thorin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bilbo adopts the boys, Bilbo is a baker, But they don't need rescuing, Handsome Prince Thorin, I needed the gender sterotypes ok, Kid Fic, Loving motherly Bilbo, M/M, Maniacal Bastard Thror, Omega!Bilbo, Sweet romance story, Thorin comes to rescue the boys, Thorin loves his nephews, cat!smaug, crazy thror, kid!Fíli, kid!Kíli, plus there might be hot sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRosella/pseuds/CrimsonRosella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two little Dwarflings have run from Erebor because their great grandfather went mad and sentenced them to die for their father not being of noble birth. Their mother was killed, their grandfather succumbed to grief and shame at his father’s actions, and their uncle has been searching for them ever since.</p>
<p>Enter Bilbo Baggins with a basket of sticky buns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have never published here before, so I really hope this story pleases you. Reviews and Comments would put me over the moon, and I can take constructive criticism.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.

“There’s no other witnesses, just us two,” Bilbo whispered conspiratorially to the fat brown cat at his side. Smaug looked up at him with judgement in his large yellow eyes, as though the idea of Bilbo doing what he was about to deeply offended him. Rolling his eyes at the spoiled feline, he beckoned over the little boy who had been eyeing his cake stall for the last hour. 

Starting, the boy looked like he wanted to bolt, but his eyes turned to the cakes again. Eventually, it seemed his stomach won over his suspicions, and he made his way over through the bustle of the village marketplace. The child was too thin, with too-long mud-crusted blond hair falling into a dirty face. He was a beautiful little boy, but it was easy to see life had been hard on him. With mistrust in his blue eyes, he approached the baking stall. 

In what he hoped was a casual manner, Bilbo leaned his elbows on the table so he was that little bit closer to the boy’s eye level. Here in the tiny village of Bree it was unusual to see boys on the street at all, even if his parents had passed everyone in the area was related in some way or another, someone would have taken him in. 

What a puzzlement.

“Good morning.” Bilbo greeted him pleasantly.

“’ullo,” he muttered, looking resentful at having to speak, his gaze switching between Bilbo and the sticky buns on the plate closest to him.  
Noticing, he picked up the biggest of them and offered it to the boy across the table. He flinched, as though Bilbo was pointing a blade at him rather than a sweet.

“I don’t have any money.” He said stiffly, glaring at Bilbo as if he had spit on him.

“That’s ok, you can have it.” He replied patiently, holding it out a little further. His glare turned suspicious.

“What’s the catch?” he bit out, still bristling like an angry cat.

Bilbo shook his head.

“No catch, they’re not selling well now, so you’ll be doing me a favour in taking one.” 

Truth be told they were his best seller, and it was still only early morning. But he would bake many more tomorrow and the boy looked to need the food more than Bilbo needed the profit.  
He still looked suspicious, eyes darting between Bilbo and the bun, but his hunger won out again and he snatched it from his hand quick as a snake. He darted off through the crowd, and Bilbo saw for a split second him splitting the bun in two and giving the clearly bigger half to an even younger boy with tangled dark brown locks before they were lost to his sight through the increasing bustle of legs.

He sighed, sad that he had not seen the littler one earlier and given the older boy a second bun. Smaug snorted beside Bilbo’s wicker chair, burying his pointed nose in his paws in indignation of being denied a potential treat. 

Grinning, he leaned over to rub the cat’s soft ears in apology.

“Oh don’t be mad, you know I’ve got a soft heart for the little ones.” He whispered to him, amused.  
Smaug gave a huff in acknowledgement before Bilbo’s attention was drawn to a customer and he began his sales for the day.

. . . . . .

The next week found Bilbo in his usual place in his wicker chair with a spread of his finest breads and sweets laid out before him. Smaug was once again settled at his side, soaking up the early morning sun like the spoiled little lump he was.

Perhaps he was overly optimistic, but he had two sticky buns and a loaf of bread neatly wrapped in a white cloth and tucked in a basket under his table. 

The day was a fine one for market, the circular cobblestoned area lined with stalls boasting everything from clothing to jewellery to fresh vegetables to his own little stall of baked goods. Shielded from the worst of the sun by the houses in the centre of town, the marketplace was situated around a large oak tree that split the two streams of foot traffic (and the occasional horse) along either side of it. There were two other baking stalls, but while Bilbo’s was smaller, it was well known that his goods were of a much better quality. That fact was the only thing that saved his business, considering most men refused to buy from a market stall owned and run by an omega, and a hobbit one at that. Never mind it came to him in an entirely respectable manner through his parent’s will, to be run by Bilbo and his husband when he took one. If he took one.

Shuddering at the very thought of /that/ disastrous possibility, Bilbo tucked a lock of curly honey hair behind his pointed ear and scanned the gathering crowd with his dark blue eyes. There by the alley near the smithy was the same blond little boy, eyeing the stall again with a torn look on his little face. 

Bilbo beckoned him over with a smile, and he came more readily than the week before. Nearly running, but trying to look nonplussed.  
When he reached the stall, his gaze flew to the large plate of sticky buns and back to Bilbo, infinitely wary. There was a tentative spark of hope in his eyes this time though, hope for another miracle but fear he would not get that lucky twice. 

“Hullo,” he greeted Bilbo quietly.

“Good morning,” he returned pleasantly, again leaning his elbows on the stall. “I have another gift for you, if you’d like.”  
The dear boy’s face lit up like a lantern, so much so he thought he saw the corner of his lips twitch into the shape of a smile for just a moment. The sight gave him warmth, and as he glanced over his shoulder he saw the other little boy in the alley watching them with hopeful intent. Dear lord he couldn’t be more than five. Bilbo’s heart ached in his breast for the both of them. 

Smiling again at the older boy in front of him, he reached under the table and retrieved the precious gift, placing it on the table in front of him.

Seeing how big it was, the boy’s look turned hesitant and suspicious again. 

“You’re really going to just give me that much food as a gift?” he asked, voice too rough for a boy that young. 

Bilbo inwardly sighed, the boy looked ready to bolt again and even if he didn’t, he looked unwilling to accept it. The hobbit could see the bruising pride in his eyes. But what to do about it?

“Tell you what,” he said softly, “You tell me your name and I’ll consider it payment enough for these.”

He held his hand out for the boy to shake.

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service.”

The boy took his hand, but instead of shaking it like most street boys would he bent his head and gave the omega’s knuckles a gentle kiss, the way omegas in high society are greeted. The gesture was so unexpected and gentlemanly Bilbo found himself blushing pink as the icing on one of his tea cakes. He did it so naturally! Someone must have taught him those manners, but whom? And where were they now?

“Fili, at yours.” 

Bilbo righted himself and pulled his hand back. Fili was now looking at the ground, as though embarrassed by his show of manners. 

“Well, Fili, I dare say we’re acquainted enough now that I can give you a gift without you troubling yourself too much over it.”

Without further ceremony, he picked up the package and dropped it into Fili’s small hands. He gazed at it as though unable to believe so much food was his. Bilbo resolved to give him more next time if it put that look of wonder in his eyes again. If there was a next time. There will be a next time, he thought determinedly. No child should ever be denied a meal.

“Are you sure you’re alright with me taking this much?” the child asked hesitantly, fighting with his conscious and his desire to just take it without question.

“You didn’t seem too worried about taking food last week,” he said with a teasing smile.

His face went red and he looked bashfully down at his toes, finally appearing as young as he should be. Bilbo realized he could be no more than ten. So young, on the streets, and looking after someone even younger.

“I am sorry for that,” He said again in a quiet voice. “We- I hadn’t eaten in several days. I was desperate.”

When he smiled at Bilbo gratefully, it just about broke his heart.

“Thank you for your kindness.” He murmured, ducking away again through the crowd.  
. . . . .  
Bilbo was a sensible Hobbit. A respectable Hobbit, and despite his status as an Omega he was well looked-upon in the shire as being a fantastic example of how unmated Omegas should behave themselves. He left for market at dawn, and returned before dusk, never staying out after dark. He didn’t go to parties that were not hosted by his relatives (he got a few disapproving glances for attending the Tookish parties, but they were his relatives and no one could say he was not entitled to go.) and he never, ever was accused of having any sort of disreputable affair.

The kind that ended with children.

Like the two beautiful boys that had begun visiting his stall every day.

The ones who had quite honestly captured his heart.

Fili was such a brave little boy, he’d looked after his brother Kili for two years on the streets. He had dropped the rougher edges of his speech and now addressed Bilbo like a little gentleman, and after several weeks of accepting Bilbo’s food packages (in which he had begun to pack more healthy, wholesome foods as well as the cakes) Bilbo had finally gathered the courage to ask to meet Fili’s little companion in the shadows. Typically, Fili had immediately bolted and hadn’t come back for a week, leaving Bilbo feeling as though his heart had split in two. When Fili finally returned, it was with a tiny curious-eyed figure hiding behind him and a doleful apology on his lip, and a thank you for the packages that Bilbo had continued to leave at the mouth of the alleyway every day. 

Though Fili was still much more demure about accepting Bilbo’s gifts, Kili had taken to waiting at Bilbo’s stall for him to show up and calling him ‘Mr. Boggins’ and grinning at him so Bilbo could see the tooth he’s lost and telling Bilbo stories that his brother told him to help him sleep. Stories of a warrior Prince in a mountain kingdom, and a gentle woman with raven black hair and laughing blue eyes who sung the most beautiful lullabies and loved the boys more than life itself. 

Yes, Bilbo was quite taken with his two little miscreants. Dwarrowling miscreants, as Kili later confided in him.  
“We’re Dwarrows” he proclaimed one sleepy afternoon, feet swinging merrily on one of the seats that Bilbo had taken to keeping for them. Bilbo nearly dropped a cake in shock as the boy continued.

“We’re Dwarrows, but it’s a secret, so no one’s allowed to know,” He said with a serious look on his little face, imitating his brother who sat next to him in silence. “E’cept you Mr Boggins. You can know because you’re special and we love you.”

Bilbo would never tell, but he had felt tears welling in his eyes at the little Dwarf’s words. And when he looked to Fili and saw the trusting smile on his beautiful face, he could do nothing but embrace the two boys.

“I love you too” he choked out through the tears, “I love both of you so much.”

Little Kili patted his face, worried that he had upset the hobbit. But Fili continued to cling to him, his face buried in Bilbo’s collar and his tiny body shaking.  
And if later Bilbo found tearstains on his shirt, he never told a soul.


	2. A New Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, never expected people to like the first chapter so much. I hope this one is just as good. If you guys really like it, I'll probably have to go and proofread the whole thing properly, so if you guys see something I don't feel free to point it out in the comments (feel free to point anything out in the comments, those comments put me over the moon thank you to everyone who took the time to post one)
> 
> I do know where I'm going with this, which is a first for me, but I'm a touch lazy so anyone who wants to say something to kick my ass into gear is welcome.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy.

Bilbo was happier than he had been in a long time as he walked home that evening. It had been two months since a pair of little Dwarflings had appeared in his life, and they had filled a space in his heart he didn’t even know was empty. He had begun spending more and more time in town, outright closing the stall some days and just spending time with the two children. Watching them play, he marvelled at them actually being Dwarven. While it was well known how different hobbit children were from the children of men, the two little dwarves looked no different. Perhaps maybe assumed younger because of their heights ( Fili came only to Bilbo’s armpit and he had been incorrect in his assumptions of their ages, Fili was twelve and little Kili was only just eight) but no one in town seemed to suspect Bilbo had done anything more than pick up a pair of orphaned human children.

Unfortunately, not everyone viewed that as a good thing.

“Bilbo Baggins!”

Barely refraining from rolling his eyes at the familiar shrieking voice, Bilbo instead pasted a fake smile on his face and shut his front gate so there was a barrier between his horrid cousin-in-law and himself.

“Lobelia, how lovely to see you. Is there something I can help with?” he asked politely.

Dressed as always like a ruffled yellow dessert, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins wielded her frilly parasol as though she’d love nothing more than to brain him with it.

“You should know very well why I’m here! Why, all this time, you’ve passed yourself off as respectable, when all along you’ve been having affairs with _humans!_ ” She spat the word as though it was dirt.

Bilbo’s hands gripped the wood of his front gate tight to refrain from slapping the foolish Beta woman. The nerve of her!

“And _what,_ pray tell, is your proof of this ridiculous accusation Lobelia?” he hissed angrily.

“Don’t you give me that, I saw you with those children! Did your human lovers abandon you when you got yourself pregnant with those spawn or did they come from a multitude of lovers so that you don’t know who’s bastards they are?” she spat, glaring down her pudgy nose at him.

This time he did slap her. The foul woman clutched her reddened cheek in shock.

“Now you listen to me,” he forced through clenched teeth. “Those children are two of the bravest souls I have ever met, and I will not have you insulting them. I did not give birth to them, but I love them just the same as if I had and I fully intend to adopt them and raise them as my own if they will permit me to do so. If they do, I _never_ want to hear a single word against them from you or I will take the matter to Old Took and have charges pressed for harassment. Good _day_ Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, it has not been a pleasure!”

And with that Bilbo turned, marched inside his front door, and slammed it behind him.

. . . . .

Fili Durinson was not a fool. He had always been a clever boy. He had to, cleverness was what kept he and his brother alive. It’s what kept them both fed, and it’s what first told him to take his brother and run far, far away.

But he did not need cleverness to tell him Bilbo Baggins was a good person.

He could see it in the way the Hobbit had continued to give him food and bought them clean clothing without a thought for the financial loss of it. He could hear it in the way he laughed with Kili and joked with them, never treating them less for living on the streets. And he could feel it in the way the Omega embraced the two of them as though he would protect them from the world.

And it felt so wonderful to be looked after by someone again, to know there was a place they could go for smiles and a warm meal. Bilbo never turned the two away, and while it would always be Fili’s job to look after Kili, he was glad Bilbo was there now.

“Fi?”

The Dwarfling looked up from his musings to feel Kili’s tiny fingers pulling on his sleeve. The two were seated on wicker chairs behind the wooden benchtop of Bilbo’s market stall (Bilbo had insisted they at least start sleeping in a structure with a roof instead of the alleyway where they’d stayed previously), waiting for him to arrive for the day. Fili with a book in his lap that Bilbo had brought for him from his house in Hobbiton and Kili petting the fat feline that horded Bilbo’s cakes as though they were gold.

“What is it Ki?” he asked gently, putting aside his book.

“Are we bad for Bilbo?” Kili asked, his little face scrunched with worry.

Fili frowned, not sure how to answer him.

“What do you mean Kiki?”

The littler dwarf sniffled, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted.

“I heard a man yell at Bilbo. He called him ‘a damned slut of an omega’ and said ‘those brats finally proved it.’” Kili finally looked up and showed his brother the tears in his eyes. “Are people being mean to Bilbo because he’s looking after us?”

Lead settled into Fili’s stomach. People were shouting slurs and insults at Bilbo? Because of them? Holding Kili close as he started to cry in earnest, Fili’s worries and insecurities whirled in his mind without restraint. Bilbo cared about them, that was obvious and Fili couldn’t lie to himself about that, but when people were insulting him? When they stopped buying from his stall? When they shunned him completely? Fili was old enough to know how unkindly unmated Omegas were treated, especially when they were seen to have lost their purity and had children before marriage, what if Bilbo decided they weren’t worth that kind of trouble? What if he turned them out to be on their own again? He began to cry silently as well.

And this was the scene Bilbo found when he arrived to open the stall for market.

“Kili! Kili what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Fili? Fili what happened?” Fili’s vice was too choked to answer him.

Collapsing next to them on the floor Bilbo scooped them up and into his lap. They were a little too big, but he managed to fit them both comfortably. Wrapping his arms around them, he began rocking gently and whispering soft comforts until the tears slowly stopped flowing.

Kili was the first to pull back from his position in Bilbo’s shirt front, his young face red and puffy from tears.

“Are people hurting you because of us Mr Boggins? Are they?” the tiny dwarfling asked, his bottom lip trembling as though he would burst into tears again at any moment.

Fili stiffened in Bilbo’s arms, but didn’t resist when the Hobbit pulled back from them. This was it. He was going to tell them to leave.

“I want you both to come and live with me.”

What.

“What?” Kili gasped, the sadness in his face disappearing as the possibility dawned on him.

Fili was stunned. Live with Bilbo? Have a home again? Somewhere they didn’t need to run from? Could they really have that?

Fili was jostled out of his thoughts (and Bilbo’s lap) when Kili threw his arms around the Hobbit’s neck, squeezing with his little arms.

“Can we really? Can we really come live with you Mr Boggins?” came the muffled question from Bilbo’s collar.

Laughing quietly, Bilbo hugged the little dwarf.

“Of course Kili, both of you. I want to look after you and your brother properly, if you’ll let me.” He murmured to the little dwarf, holding his other arm out to Fili, who still stood stunned.

“Fili, would you like that? Would you like to come and live with me in my home?”

“Oh please Fili!” Kili begged, “Please say we can go!”

Fili was torn. He had to protect Kili. That was his job. What if someone found out they were living with Bilbo? They’d come and take him and Kili away, and they might even hurt Bilbo!

He didn’t want Bilbo to get hurt.

“What if someone hurts you?” He blurted out, beginning to tremble.

“What if someone hurts you because of us Bilbo?”

Bilbo looked at the little dwarf. His golden hair was clean and combed now, and the clothes he wore were washed. But his eyes were the same, blue as the waters of the Brandywine river, and full of worries no child should bear. Except this time, there was worry for Bilbo as well.

Gently placing little Kili on his feet, he reached out and pulled Fili into his arms, the small body stiff and unyielding in his embrace.

“I swear Fili, I will never let anyone hurt you or Kili as long as I live. And I plan to live for a very long time. Nothing bad will happen to me. I promise.”

There was a pause.

“You promise?”

Bilbo smiled into the head of golden hair.

“I promise.”

“Ok.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry it's been so long. I never meant to do that, leave you guys hanging, and youve all been so very kind to me. My senior year is finished now, and there are no distractions to stop me now. I hope this chapter is a bit improved in writing quality, and perhaps the little cliffhanger will mean a much, much quicker update *winks*

Having a home again was, strange. Fili woke in his soft bed, Kili in a bed across from him (snoring loud enough for two full-grown dwarves and a baby Oliphant), with sunlight dappling the pleasant cream walls of their bedroom in Bag-End. He would go down for breakfast, and Bilbo would greet him with a kiss on the forehead and a glass of orange juice while he finished cooking the bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, tomatoes, mushrooms and various other foodstuffs that made up a Hobbit breakfast. When the smell of food inevitably lured Kili from the bedroom, they would eat, clean their teeth, dress themselves (the hobbit trousers and suspenders looked odd on the two boys, and their bare feet were not near as strong as Bilbo’s, so he had bought their clothing and boots in Bree) and head off for the day to market with hobbit fauntlings chasing the small cart of goods down the lane.

Bilbo had expressed a concern with their diets, he did not know what was healthy for dwarves their ages to be eating and there was no way he could ask around without arousing suspicion. While the boys had never confided their full story to Bilbo (he had the feeling they themselves didn’t know it) he had gathered that they had run from home, and they were terrified of ever going back.

_Well they never have to._ He thought decidedly. They were his boys now, and he’d see Lobelia as Mistress of Bag-End before he’d let them come to harm. Thankfully, not many in Hobbiton shared Lobelia’s distaste for humans, or turned up their nose at Bilbo adopting the two boys. Many of his cousins had come to visit and in fact adored the two boys. Fili’s manners made him quite popular with the young hobbit lasses (he was constantly struggling to run away from them) and Kili needed to do nothing more that show that adorable little grin and the mothers and aunts and cousins all cooed.

Yes the boys were different to the Hobbits, and the change was sometimes keenly felt when they needed to wear boots around the shire and were taller than the other children. So while they were not sad in the shire, they were not truly happy either. Something was missing, and Bilbo was at a loss as to how to find it for them.

. . . . .

One sunny afternoon found Bilbo in his garden, attending his tomato plants and sweet pea vines. The soil under his hands was soft as he dug out a particularly stubborn weed. Without his notice, two more small sets of hands began to work the soil either side of him, as deft with the tools as if they had been born with tools in hand.

Fili began to fiddle with the trowel he was using. It was an old one, beautiful once but now it was rusted where the metal joined the wooden handle and the tip was blunted and a little bent from years of use. The wooden handle was chipped and cracked and Bilbo needed to wear gloves while using it lest he end up with lacerated hands from the splinters.

“I think you need a new trowel Bilbo, this one’s rubbish.” He muttered, struggling with the clunky thing. Bilbo smiled a little sadly, and switched out the old one for the newer one he’d been using.

“You’re quite right Fili, this trowel has outlived its useful years,” he said quietly, his blue eyes melancholy. “But I can never bring myself to be rid of it. It holds too much sentimental value I’m afraid. The rest of its matching set has already broken, so this is the last piece left.” He had both of the boy’s attention now, little Kili had placed down his tool and was listening curiously.

“Why’s it special Mr Boggins? Is it made of something special? Is it magic? Ooh, did you get it from a beautiful Princess and that’s why it’s special?” Bilbo laughed outright at Kili’s wondrous tone, the sadness leaving his eyes just a little.

“I suppose you’re not far off with that last guess my dear. The set this came from was designed by my Mother, who was as beautiful as any Princess. She and my Father made it for me for when I came of age.” He showed them both the worn initials on the underside of the metal, a small BB in curling script. “BB for Bilbo Baggins, my parents were not naturals in the trade of smithing, but they worked very hard to make these for me. That’s why it’s special.”

The boys seemed awed, Fili especially. Bilbo smiled, glad he could share that part of his family history with the boys. Fili was in fact, thinking it over an idea. It would not be too difficult, and it seemed a perfect way to repay Bilbo for all he had done for them. Smiling a secret smile, the dwarfling tucked the trowel into a pocket and thought of what he could use to trade…

. . . . . .

That Saturday as per usual Bilbo and the boys tottered into town for market. Bree was bustling this morning, the marketplace’s cobblestoned streets rang with the echoes of conversation, storeowners yelling out their wares and values and the occasional clip-clop of horses and carts. Bilbo told them they were free to move around town as they pleased as long as they stayed together and returned to the stall immediately if they felt something was unsafe.

Fili waved goodbye to Bilbo, holding Kili’s hand tight as they made their way through the crowd. Two streets from the marketplace was the smithy, and Fili was determined to get there and back before Bilbo suspected a thing. He had the trowel hidden in his satchel as well as three copper coins he’d earned by working with Bilbo’s neighbour Hamfast Gamgee in his garden. When Fili had explained what he needed to earn the money for, Hamfast had wanted to simply gift it to him, but Fili had insisted on doing the work. He felt like if he hadn’t earned the money himself, it would not be a gift from him, but instead from Mr. Gamgee.

_And I want to be the one to give this to Bilbo_. Bilbo had truly given the two little dwarrows something they never thought they could have again, he’d given them a family. Fili knew he could never repay him, but this was a start.

You could never be sure who was working the smithy at any time. The previous smith had passed on shortly after the boys first came to the village. His son was not a smith, he’d married a farmer’s daughter and worked the land with his wife, and so he would rent the smithy out to the travelling smiths that frequented the village for the markets. As far as the boys could see the smithy wasn’t in use, but the forge was lit, so someone was indeed working there.

“Hello?” Kili’s voice echoed in the hot confines of the forge. The typical darkness of the workshop gave it a spooky feel, so Kili felt it was entirely appropriate to stay behind his brother. He jumped when they heard a clattering of metal from a hidden corner of the shop. 

"'Ello? Who's there?" A gruff voice called.

From the back of the workshop emerged a short, squat man with leathery skin that was so wrinkled he looked like someone had slathered him in oil and left him in the sun too long. Dark, flinty eyes peered at the boys from under thick ash-grey brows, and as he opened his mouth to speak again they could see his teeth were yellowed and chipped.

"What do you boys want in 'ere?" he snapped at them. Fili steeled himself, showing the man his three coins. "We wish to pay to use the forge." The man eyed the money in Fili's hand greedily. "Ye both using it? 'Cause those coins ain't gonna cover both of ye." Fili stepped forwards, "Just me." The man looked disappointed. "Very well then." He sighed.

The boys were shown to a small workstation, right by the forge where the heat was at its most unbearable. The human, who had grudgingly introduced himself as Deuc, was visibly sweating heavily. The boys however, only gained a light sheen of perspiration on their faces. They didn't see the odd looks Deuc gave them as Fili worked the forge with little issue, Kili fetching whatever tools his brother required from a communal bench. Before the man's curiosity could become suspicion he was called back to the front area, the lure of potential money to be made soon pushing the boys from his mind.

Fili worked quickly, and soon a beautifully worked trowel spade was cooling on the bench in front of them, after being dunked in a bucket of water. An elegant BB engraved in it's underside. For the final step Fili pulled a simple handle he and Kili had carved from wood out of his bag and secured it in place as the metal cooled completely, ready to be wrapped and tucked back into the bag.

As the boys left the forge, Kili looked back. Deuc was standing in the door, gleefully inspecting the coins they had paid him with. Near the entrance though, Kili glimpsed another figure. Short statured, very short, with a face partially hidden in a hooded cloak. All the dwarfling could see was the shadow of a close-cropped dark beard and a mouth, downturned at the edges and stern. Kili only saw him for a moment, and by the little dwarf turned forward again, the figure had moved and was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day out and a bad omen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Six month gap instead of a year, I'm improving slightly. I'm so sorry. I shall do better!  
> Thank you so much to all the wonderful people who took the time to make a comment it truly warms my heart that so many people enjoy my first work. I hope this chapter satisfies :)

The boy's gift was well recieved. Bilbo was so happy he needed to wipe a tear from his eye. The restored trowel was worked beautifully, and now even more special. Reminding him both of his loving parents and the two amazing boys he had become parent to. The moment they had given it to him, he'd gathered them up and told them how increadibly proud he was and how special they were to him. By the end of the whole thing there was a few sniffles going on all around.

They enjoyed a rather special dinner that night and the next morning Bilbo declared that instead of going to the market they were going to enjoy a picnic.

"Weeeeeeee!" Screamed Kili, jumping at Bilbo and wrapping his tiny arms around the Omega's soft waist. 

"Thank you Mr. Boggins! What are we going to bring? Ohhh can we bring a pie? Apple pie!? Can we bring an apple pie Mr.Boggins?"

Bilbo laughed, blue eyes fond and loving. 

"Yes Kili, we can bring an apple pie. But only if you start calling me Bilbo, or the whole shire will be calling me Boggins before long."

The little dwarf, taking his apple pie very seriously, gave a solid nod before being distracted by a butterfly and running out to chase it in the garden.

Bilbo smiled lovingly, the little dwarf's excited giggled and squeals of delight warming his heart.

"And do you have any requests for the picnic Fili?" 

The Hobbit's slightly more serious charge sat at the kitchen table, intensely studying a puzzle made up of intricately pattered wooden blocks that apparently formed the picture of a dragon. Smaug was particularly fascinated by it.

Fili looked thoughtful for a moment before shyly replying,

"Can we bring a plate of sticky buns?"

Bilbo's smile softened. Fili's calm mannerisms and bright intelligence truly covered a very young heart.

"Of course we can my dear, as many as you like."

*  *  *  *  *

The little family had picked a gorgeous day to picnic as while the sun was shining brightly, there was a gentle breeze just perfect for taking the edge off the Spring heat.

Off the road to town there was a little trail just big enough for the three of them to squeeze down walking side-by-side. Trees lined the little path creating a dappled play of light across Fili and Kili's hair as they ran ahead of Bilbo.

"Don't go to far!" He called, feeling strangely cautious. "Stay where I can see you!"

The boys waved to let him know they had heard and continued their mad dash down the lane.

Bilbo scolded himself for being over protective. They were on a small shaded lane in the shire of all places! What on Middle Earth could possibly happen here? Still, the niggling instict for caution persisted and he kept a wary eye on the closely spaced trees around them.

But before long, they reached their destination. A stunning glade of the greenest grass that was ever seen, spotted liberally with patches of wildflowers with their delicate heads bobbing in the breeze. There was even a tiny babbling brook running through the grass, as clear as glass and perfectly chilly on such a warm day.

"Bilbo! Can we explore? Please please oh please can we?" Kili called in his usual excited rush.

Bilbo's unease had lessened with the wide open space and beautiful scenery, so he nodded his consent but called out to them to not stray too far, and be back in time to eat.

The two children shrieked in delight and hurried of towards the brook, Bilbo relaxing a little as he realised they intended to stay in sight. Bless Fili and his good sense.

Even as he unpacked their lunch he kept trying to reign in his overcaution. There were no eyes in the trees, no danger in the forest he told himself. Why, there wasn't even a cloud in the sky.

But as the Omega looked he saw on the horizon a small cloud, dark as pitch and roiling. Tiny though it was it sent an odd shiver down his spine.

Then he heard the screams.


End file.
